


1999

by rebdoomer



Series: the years of sam + dean [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eventual Wincest, M/M, Slow Burn, Weecest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 16:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8496829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebdoomer/pseuds/rebdoomer
Summary: | lowercase intended |a lanky, awkward, and severely anxious sixteen year old sam winchester has massive daddy issues and fails to get along with his older brother dean, who just wants the best for his baby brother, but doesn't realize that he's the main issue in sam's life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> yo !!! i haven't written anything for ao3 yet, so i kinda just decided to come up with some little thing w much weecest and feels.  
> 1999; sam's sixteen & dean's twenty.

**April 11th, 1999**

_**Austin, Texas** _

the only thing that sam can feel is the blistering heat from the sun and the blind taste of dried, bloodied lip skin between his teeth. dean had been taken aback by the fact that their room had no air conditioning, so he went and picked up a shitty, battery-powered fan from the convenience store down the street (which, to say the least, didn't help much at all). sam personally found that the fan was useless; but he didn't tell dean, just thanked him for being such a good brother in attempt to cool him off.

  
dean just shrugs and utters a quiet, careless, “welcome” as he blankly stares at the television screen. sam wasn't sure if he was frustrated, upset, or bugged by something, and if he was being honest, that fact was bugging him.

  
“dean?” sam questions, eyes glazed over as he yawns silently. “yeah, what y’want, sammy?” dean’s eyes don't focus off of the tv in front of him, displaying some old cartoon that they had recorded on a vcr tape ( _that's been watched so many times, the screen will fade in and out_ ). “are you even worried about dad in the slightest? he hasn't been around in almost a month and normally you’d be itchin’ to know what's going on with him.” the boy messes with his hair for a moment while gazing at his older brother, the sight of him, altering as his face contorted with confusion.

  
“sam, didn't he tell you that he was bringin’ the impala around tomorrow ‘cause he’s out with bobby? he’ll be gone in another month or so, so he’s leavin’ the car t’me. we’re out for colorado tuesday morning.” he lazily scratched at the scruff that started to grow in on his cheeks, sighing quietly as he sipped his beer. sam would've protested, would've begged dean to let them stay just a bit longer, but he's realized that it gets the two of them nowhere. they always leave, no matter what the circumstance or why, so he gave up on trying with that. “no, he didn't, actually.” sam shrugs, wanting to see, wanting to pull just _some_ kind of reaction out of dean, _**any**_ reaction out of him. but alas, nothing. dean didn't even bat an eyelash.

  
the sixteen year old moose (though, in his early years, he wasn't quite) sprawls himself out next to dean, letting his long legs drop onto dean’s lap as he pops the same nirvana cassette into their dad’s walkman, which was hanging by a thread at this point. sam quickly put the scratchy foam headphones over his ears to avoid dean’s protest, dean’s “dude, fuck off!”, dean’s “really?” and his signature face that he makes when he's mad but amused at the same time.

sam winchester falls asleep humming the chorus of _serve the servants._

 

**April 13th, 1999**

**_Littleton, Colorado_ **

sam silently sat in one of the bland, red-cushioned chairs that were imbedded into the floorboards as he examined the area around him. the walls were freshly-painted, a dull beige that looked as if it was dripping from the wall. a clock was laid out on the floor, among with several other scattered framed paintings or drawings, dusted over with crumpled, dead drywall. he concludes that clearly, this office was being renovated.

sam's big brother dean was just in the other room, pleading with the man in his own personal office. this wouldn't be the first time that sam winchester moved schools to stay for just a month, or maybe even less. this school wasn't different, not even in the least bit. it still had the cheesy "home of the ____" all over the place, and they still had the same spring break dates out on their sign that they were supposed to take down over a month ago. kids paraded around in their fancy white caps, and others wore long, black trenchcoats (which he didn't really get, it was hot as hell in there), and sam only assumed it was for some kind of fashion statement until he saw a boy in a trenchcoat get kicked over by one of the boys in a white cap. sam concluded that he wouldn't dare to wear either.

a man in a white dress shirt emerges from the room dean had been in, dean following suit slowly. the man had been holding a piece of paper, which he'd handed to sam. "well, mister ford, here's your schedule. you start class tomorrow, buddy." and with that he was gone, dean groaning as the both of them started back for the impala. "i don't understand why you want fuckin' school so bad. you don't even need it with what y'already know." 

sam frowned. "dean, school's incredibly vital to any kid, y'know. it helps them learn and grow, become better people, while actually getting an education that _they_  can put to use when they're adults." dean looks over at his little brother with the biggest hate-filled stare he can muster up without trying to look scary. "sammy, **you. don't. need. it.** " sam looks like he's ready to drop a nuke on dean, as he sighs and finally gains enough courage to stand up for himself. "well, maybe, i don't **want**  the life! have y'ever considered that, dean, have ya? i don't want to do this all of my life, i have hopes, i have dreams, i want a family, a wife, i want to go to college." 

"..well, if that's how you feel about it." and with that, dean fell silent. the whole car ride to the motel was quiet. no music, no sighs, just stares out of the windows and deep thinking between the two boys, each opposing their own ideals without showing it.

that was, until dean finally spoke. "look, sammy, i want what's best for you. i want you to be happy, i want you to do what floats your own boat. that's my job, that's my dream, for my baby brother to be happy with his life. and i know you're never gonna wanna do this job forever, if ever again, but i don't think you realize how much i need you. 've always depended on you, sam, and you've always depended on me since the night i grabbed you out of the house. i practically raised you. fed you, bought you shit that you never even needed. i just want you to realize that if you ever leave me and dad, there's no way in hell 'm gonna make it."


End file.
